it is what it is, but it ain't what you think

Tag: buddy love

Two months ago a very good friend suddenly left this plane, and though it had been some time since I last had heard his voice, I often wondered how he was doing. But now I think about him several times a day, though not in the blame filled guilt trip kinda way, just sadness, a sadness in that I never knew he was even sick. I’ve always joked (not joking) that I am the sanest person I know. With Doug though, if pressed I might have given him a slight edge on me. He had his shit together before I moved away from Greensboro, NC 13 years ago, when we ran hard and worked even harder, and then sometimes ran even faster again. Doug and I shared the work hard-play-hard life philosophy of “buy the ticket, take the ride”.

Now I feel sympathy for him and empathetic to his partner (Christina) and their son Noah, who is one year older than my 10-year old first-born son. I’m sorry that one of the finest persons I’ve been lucky enough to have called my friend found himself trapped inside one of the most vile twisted and horrible conditions in psychiatry today. And one that would eventually strike and unravel, deciding his fate. I know it must have been unbearable suffering, because the Doug I knew rarely lost at anything in life, his natural constitution was using his considerable talents to find a way to win. And a winner he was in every respect.

Ironically in 2007 we discussed some of these same issues that later haunted him, issues that from all accounts he later apparently struggled with mightily. He and I talked about it over a couple of long phone calls when my two-year old son’s mother died, ironically in the same out-of-the-blue mind-fuck way in which he later succumbed. It was only after some time that I was able to personally heal enough not to be mad at her when I looked at my son’s beautiful face, but I eventually researched it enough (with counseling) and studied the disease (manic bi-polar dis-order) enough to understand how she had been very sick, and her’s was not a selfish act… in some ways heroic. I admit to being mad at Doug too for those first couple of days as it is only a normal reaction. But, I hope that those who loved Doug will find it within themselves to forgive, and give Noah the love he will need going forward.

I’m now certain she (my son’s Mother) thought she was doing me and our son and maybe the world a favor. How could it happen only a few years later that Doug apparently didn’t recognize the symptoms he was experiencing as being eerily similar, and NOT seek immediate medical help?

“Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need.

First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks
passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind’s way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door.

Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door.

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told.

Our friendship was special in many ways, and I never doubted it was one that was built to last despite wherever our individual paths would lead us. The few times we did talk in the last 3-4 years it seemed like yesterday that we were laughing, golfing, partying, or talking through long hours of a weekend night, building a unique bond of brotherhood. And, so times remain in memories too, and though we’ve duffed our last good times together on the front nine of this “good walk spoiled”… My Dougly, I’ll catch you on the backside.

Doug will always seem near, and I doubt that feeling will ever yield, serving as testimony to all that we weathered together and how at one time we were bonded as if tethered. Time passed, and distance drew us further apart only in this physical realm, his life essence today as clear to me as anyone I’ve ever encountered who has passed my way..

In my minds eye I still see those bright sparkling sea blue eyes smiling that eternal grin, a slightly toothy and twisted grin that always uttered a quick shortish chuckle like a verbal wink, not a sneering snarkle.

“You, my brotha… you’re happenin’. What might we do to make this sunny Friday good reason to call it a week? I make an air-golf-swing and give him an inquisitive look as if asking a question?

“(Laughs out loud)” You’re on, but let me take care of a few things first. Let’s meet at Stoney Creek in an hour… they’ll squeeze us on. But, not before I buy you an ice-cold beer,” he offers, pulling one out of the small cooler in his tiny back office.

“Schweet, See ya’ at 12:45ish”, popping the top for a cool swig of cerveza.

The golf the excuse, the time spent laughing and chatting it up (and a few cold-uns) the real reasons we were playing. Of course, he almost always won, and I almost always got the tab later. Usually, he paid half anyway.

We sometimes but very rarely meet a person who shares a common natural vibe, manifesting itself as a subtle synchronous one-man-ship. Perhaps it is luck when two minds and hearts of like kind can instantly formulate and understand the other’s deepest thoughts and bind effortlessly in such a short time? True friendship, lastingly rare as it is, transcends the world we think we see and enters into a more sublime reality; where life and death are no different than time and distance, just a weird cohesive illusion. Maybe mind stays fresh for a time in the Consciousness of the Great Immensity? People who have died that I knew well never do seem as far from me as those whom I am merely acquainted with. Then again, maybe its just a function of the brain’s electrical neurotransmitters and neural networks, and there’s no big truth to discover after death? For now, I’ll take what I can get.

With Christina,,Doug’s partner and mother of Noah

Neither of us a nihilist, and both always too real, we never disagreed about what is here and now, though we differed on the eternal spinning of the wheel. Doug, a religious believer, and me a skeptic… one never cared to convert the other, because we agreed that hey, “it is what it is”. Apparently Doug had one year earlier sold his restaurant, a business that started as a tiny cramped sandwich shop that he nurtured into a large, thriving, one-of-a-kind place to eat by the time Doug had hit 35. It was the epitome of the term “cash cow”. I often wonder if his having sold his life’s work recently and somewhat stumbling around free and without a solid plan for his next big move contributed to his fall from grace. “Idle hands are the Devils work”, they say, but then one must first also believe in the Devil. Doug did, not me. May be I’m just lucky? Lucky?

Well… curiously enough, I too “retired” from a successful career with the intent to take some “idle time” first before embarking on another big challenge at around the same age as Doug did (47). That was 12 years ago, and I’ve not worked at a job since then. But, don’t sleep on the fact that the years surrounding age 47 can be a difficult period for many men, as it is around the time we experience one of our greatest “changes of the seasons”. It is a time where questions outnumber answers, reason gives in to fantasy, and suppressed Jungian archetypes arrive unannounced to ring a gentle alarm, seemingly without an off button but a relentless snooze reminder.

For me, an avid reader from way back and a suction for knowledge of all things anything, I trust that this malady of Doug’s will stay at bay throughout my less-than-ideal projected number of remaining days. Smart and stubborn, when told in January ’06 I had “less than five years” to make my indelible mark on humanity, I simply refused to accept it, or believe it was a possibility.

After all, after 50 years of child-free living and loving it… I had become a father. I was a single father, and this wonderful life-giving “reason for reasons” became my duty bound refusal to leave as scheduled. I mean, to me it was as simple as, “No, I have a little boy to raise.”

Maybe in the twisted end we’ll all find that in sublime irony, “living is dying, and dying is living, or something a thousand times more weird. But, NOW is the only sure bet we have. It pays to have hope, reason, and expectation of a future… but we should never take our eye off the ball of NOW.

“The human being cannot live in a condition of emptiness for very long: if he is not growing toward something, he does not merely stagnate; the pent-up potentialities turn into morbidity and despair, and eventually into destructive activities.”

I admired a man named Douglas Fricks, an honest and loyal friend killed by one of (god’s) nastiest tricks. Smart and funny, happy and caring, humble, sharing, compassionate and never once was he over-bearing. Confident and cool, his actions were the example his employees didn’t learn in school. He didn’t worship money, he worshiped Noah and (sometimes) even his honey.

He spoke the truth and he knew its limits, but he never seem to pass on one more ice-cold beer… and I was right there, but we always usually sometimes held it together. He was “My-Fugly-My-Dougly”, and my “Friggy-my Diggy”. And me, to him… just “Tommy-boy” (my habit of nicknaming and his return sally).

I hope you found your peace my brother, I’ll always be your biggest fan. You in the fairway and me the woods, your smooth swing had you dancing, and me hacking, whacking, hatchet thicket smacking… but you never let me know how far down I stood. I loved YOU for the you that was you… and you, My Dougly… I always will.

Share this:

Like this:

Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall… yeah, yeah, yeah…

all you’ve got to do is call (but, just not right now)… (yeah)…

you’ve got a… friend-ish.

I clearly remember thinking once that “friends” were the most important possession one could have, and as such I would never EVER forsake my (then) friends for anyone else (like a wife, siblings, parents, or kids), and that our friendship(s) would likely last until my last remaining breath, right before meeting my (player to be named later – well, I hadn’t figured that part out yet).This was right after a good buddy refused to go out drinking with the boys, citing “a problem” with “his second grader’s homework.” The nerve of that guy, putting family before friends. I know, right?

As a card totin’ certified ‘late schedule maturing adult’, I think I was almost 40 when that brainchild hit me. By then, I had managed to collect and keep a handsome collection of assorted friends and a loyal wife, while sporting zero liabilities… I mean kids. We lived a busy but exciting life, but it wasn’t exactly hassle-free. Staying connected to friends was important to both of us, and we had a contingent of childless like-minded couple friends. Always the man’s man, I managed my guy friends (buddies) with a deft touch, all having been dutifully earned and cultivated throughout different time periods in my life. And dude, I was always there for them at a moments notice. Cheers. (Note: It may be a Darwinian trait for us to heavily imbibe alcoholic beverages among friends at gatherings).

Problem with spouse? No worries mate, let’s go have a beer. Job pressures? Meet me for lunch and we’ll hammer it out. Uh, you told her you didn’t love her anymore after driving home from her birthday dinner and that you wanted a divorce? Hello? …Wha? sitting in the garage? She hit you with what?

OK. Sit tight. Let me check on the next flight to ‘Mozambique’… I’ll be there by Friday night.

Yes, actually the above conversation did take place, and so I dutifully spent about a grand+ to travel (to offender city) that same weekend, then spend 12 hours Saturday loading a full size U-haul, and drive it all day Sunday to Kentucky while listening attentively the-entire-way to my bud’s complaints about (soon to be ex-wife), and how he had been victimized by the whole affair. Right. Check. I see. Oh, and you’ve been having a secretive affair with the next Ms. Right (in Kentucky) for about three months? Got it. He did thank me before we parted ways on Sunday evening, and I left town feeling like a real man and loyal friend.

Unfortunately, almost a year later he blew through my hometown one night (travelling, work related) during a fresh self-inflicted marital crisis of my own. Instead of giving me the blind emotional support I felt I deserved (True, even though I was the offender), as he sat down to our dinner table he spoke with an assumed authority that he had not been granted: “My brother, it is well known that thou reap-est what thou sow-est.” Then, he added something about how I might want to do a gut-check on my guiding principles, or something? I don’t know, because by then I was too dizzy to hear anything.

Red faced and shaking I looked at him incredulously, “No, you didn’t just say that did you…huh? No, you didn’t,” then got up and went to my office to try and calm down before I strangled him. Luckily, after breathing deep I decided not to make a scene and calmly sauntered back to the table and struck up a more positive vibe by talking basketball.

After dinner, (smoking my expensive cigars) he waxed philosophical about how happy he had been since his recent divorce. Though in principle he was right about me, on pure friendship terms he had committed the rare but egregious ‘simultaneous intentional personal and technical fouls’. After 15 years now I haven’t forgiven him for it, nor has he asked forgiveness. In fact we never discussed it. Tilt. (-1)

THE BEST FRIEND COMPETITION

This topic alone could fill an entire book, but I will try to shorten it. As my life progressed with new places and people, changing values and beliefs, and professional and economic status, I realized that ‘best friend’ is at best a relative term. Much like one’s memory of a first lover, it can be hard to shake the impressions a childhood or high school best friend leaves on one’s psyche, even in lieu of overwhelming evidence that life’s meandering ways have left you two once best friends with little in common today. Maybe even directly oppositional in philosophical terms. Even with the effort of a late second half struggle to keep the “oath” relevant, many times it can meet with a resounding… WTF, or just fizzle out. (-½)
Soon though you realize that one can have best friends categorically; as in a best friend from childhood, best from college, best conquering the real world of work, best in mischief, best unknown known (hat tip to Rumsfield), best known unknown, etc. The mighty Christmas card list grows and it becomes a full time job to keep it fresh. It can sometimes become a revolving and relentless golf outing/Vegas/ball game annual boys weekend that seems endless; and it must all be squeezed neatly into an already packed vacation calendar. My ex-wife, god bless her, merely shrugged in complete non-judgment as I friend hopped around the country like an idiot at a fire drill. (I’ve since given up golf, can’t afford gambling, and watch games at home or out with friends).

Of course, no friend post would be complete without the venerable ‘opposite sex’ friend comment. Despite the issues and aside from avoiding ANY wrongdoing, if one is married or in a relationship, my advice is as it has always been, “just don’t go all Freemason” on this situation, and discuss it openly with your partner/mate. As in… a secret friendship does NOT accord with a viable platonic friend. By lying/hiding… anything you say can and will be twisted into impropriety. A good friend becomes, “Friends with penalties”.

In fact, it somewhat pains me to suggest ‘just forget it’ when/if you later become involved in a romantic relationship. It pains me because friends are too dear to forsake them for innocent misunderstandings, but then life is too short to be miserable with the one you love. What’s weird is that when I met my current partner nearly ten years ago I had several platonic girlfriends. In fact, my partner and I were platonic “friends with possibilities” for 2-3 years before becoming romantically involved. Once the romance began the issues over these friends seemed to escalate.

Life it seems, is full of choices. (-5)

I don’t get the “friends with benefits” concept at all. To me the act of making love is maybe the single most important factor in a sustainable happy relationship with a romantic partner, and the act alone involves a heavy emotional investment from both partners for complete enjoyment and satisfaction. It seems like “sport sex” simply cheapens the product to me, but like everything else I understand that everyone doesn’t have to think the same. If you can do it without hurting someone and with a clean conscience, go for it.

For many (men) there can be some life altering shake-ups of monumental proportions as we transition into our late-middle years, and ones that blow the ‘we’ll always be friends’ theory clearly out of the water, and into altered reality status. Afterwards, old friends, new friends, everyone is scrutinized with a “who the fuck is this person” freshness. In the meantime no calls are returned, no messages answered, or doorbells heard. And you, operating within a shadow of your former self, might simply be staring at walls for hours… contentedly. This twisted fog, a mangled mess of mayhem (some call the mid-life crisis) eventually passes, but now its your friends who have begun the slice-and-dice on you. Re-appraisal time from both corners. (-15)

Once one steps away from the BIG LIE buffet of success and begins that inevitable slow melt into the masterpiece (hat tip Leonard Cohen), or much earlier for the family inclined statistically normal folks who marry and have families around their late twenties, a certain ‘friend’ re-evaluation period becomes a born again necessity to you. (-75)

For these latter case upwardly mobile (family types) it likely becomes apparent that life’s (commitments plus time-to-accomplish) have squeezed out all (time potential for fulfillment success) in every 24/hr day, leaving the potential fun bank busted (0/24) and the great pairing down commences. But, as for the former (masterpiece melters) who may also have endured a train wreck of sorts, it simply comes down to a re-factoring of the current value proposition, in which the erosion of (ideals to value system) have been modified over time… enough to red-line at high disparity levels, thus begging the question, “WTF, how/why we saw fit to become ‘friends’ in the first place?”

The second law of thermodynamics spares no one my friend. Entropy always wins at the end of the day.

That disturbingly segues into answering the ‘why have we remained friends’ question, and given the obvious conflict in world-views on so many levels we realize that we’re actually not very fond of some of our supposed friends; an idea that hadn’t occurred to us until (now). At this point the ‘pairing down’ becomes a ‘lopping off’, with the understanding that most friends weren’t actually friends in the first place. Most likely they were ‘acquired’ by a sort of proxy through groups and organizations or circumstances and activities in which you were mutually involved at some earlier point in your respective pasts. And, one that is continuously passing, renewing, eroding, re-configuring, evolving. (-100)

I suspect that Facebook has brought this reality home to roost to many people more than ever, as I am so often perplexed by some of my ’friends’ beliefs, observations, and ideas enough to make me, uh, lol. And while a biting wit and sarcasm does well to satisfy my own sinister cynical derision, it sometimes leaves me with that half-empty feeling that once crept in while listening to some hilarious and cynically funny but darkly laced anecdotes from peers, during their retirement speeches to which I’d been treated.

There was something sadly comical about several of these (old) guys, who had obviously dug up their buried hatchets, after long sitting on their unique personalities, and likely bitten their bottom lip for so long they had almost been forgotten. But now, in their twilight moment they were exposing themselves as the company heretic hiding in the closet. “Finally,” these folks must have reasoned, “the chance to tell-it-like-it-is, and without fear of reprisal. Ain’t holding nothin’ back.” After a few drinks at the head table, I’ve seen some guys I considered eunuchs grow huge balls right before my very eyes and put them on full display. (+5)

FACEBOOK (+20)

I see some real benefit in using Facebook (if only because I really am a nice guy and enjoy hearing of others important moments in life), and perhaps sometimes like to show off my own family pride (without the warts) to the adoring masses, or just to sometimes openly vent about some wrongdoing or situation, and to anyone who’ll listen (all without an encryption filter despite Ed Snowden’s warnings ). Still, I try to maintain a tiny degree of modicum, with highly acute don’t give a rat discretion.

It may be no surprise that (*open honesty) in today’s vernacular actually translates to: ‘subversive anarchist who attempts to discuss reality with those who refuse to listen and wish NOT to know conflicting sides of anything they want to believe in and those who would rather SA just shut up and enjoy FREEDOM in the USA with all its pretensions, rights and vain-glories’. (*Your mileage may vary. Illegal unless otherwise stated herein, Please read the fine print. ( i.e. Either way you’re fucked, bitch).

I do like hearing other’s opinions of the facts, but I have my limitations. First, I must pre-suppose a commenter’s knowledge of subject matter. Please do your homework first. You know, like not saying “there’s no Santa Claus’ cause’ December 25 is Jesus’ birthday,” and shit. Second, leave all war-mongering at the door, or better… leave it with the military industrial complex. They’re doing it well enough without any popular support. Third, when in doubt, it’s time to STFU.

MY FACEBOOK RULES FOR COMMENTING and DISCUSSIONS WORTH NOTING (this is imaginary but who knows?)

The best compliment I ever got on Facebook was from a friend who said, “…that’s what I like about you… you’re abrasive.”That’s me. You can be too. Remember, abrasive, sarcastic, funny, but not repetitive.

TALKING POINTS

Political expression is fine, as long as you can agree to a few things first: 1.There is no such thing as a liberal or conservative or Democrat or Republican, and Libertarian is dying in favor of Authoritarian. And, in truth there is only one party: The Green Authoritarian party. BTW, also that the ‘Party’ is controlled by a short list of well-healed extreme right and extreme left minded criminals who double as honest people, and who use our government and it’s officials as puppets to further their own secretive politico-economic agenda.

Whereby thanks to these fucks, ER + EL does not equate to Extreme Middle statistically, economically, or politically. That’s the place where you use to live, but they burnt it down using play money and THE US Constitution as kindling, thus it no longer exists.

If you agree with the above check YES, otherwise refrain from posting dumbass Fox News clips, or stupid bi-partisan drivel or discussing/arguing Politics and Policy with me. And yes, I have done my homework. Have you?

On my Facebook page please try to: Imagine there’s no heaven, and no hell below us (hat tip J. Lennon). It’s easy if you try. Violators will be consigned to the archives of evangelical lost souls. If you insist on quoting Jesus, only original sources are allowed. By virtue of sticking firmly to this rule, Jesus issues should care of themselves.

Remember, religious worship is a world-wide phenomenon (and IS NOT relegated to yours exclusively), a nefarious idea that alone creates and supports divisive intolerant ignorance, and mostly leaves blood in its wake. You are urged to be mindful and careful when posting this sensitive topic.

Profanity that’s profane is both tolerated and encouraged. Say what you mean and mean what you say, with profanes. Sarcasm is appreciated, but ironically funny wins the day. Double entendre’ is my specialty.

And BTW, this page is a Tin Hat friendly site, but have facts to back up any incredibly unlikely scenarios. And while unlikely is relative it draws closer to likely than ever before.

Above all friends, lighten up and enjoy the moment… try not to over post “share this if you agree” comments, and please turn off those “where you’re having lunch’ notifications. It only notifies me that you’re a tool. But hey, ignorance can be cured… it is stupidity that leaves its indelible mark.

Don’t hate sarcasm or you’ll end up hating me too, and I need ALL the friends I can get. Or, another hole in the head?

EDITOR’S NOTE:

As expected my Facebook page is now safely ignored by 99% of my Facebook friends. That’s what happens when you set the Facebar too high, I guess.

Final word. I’m not exactly sure what the definition of a friend is today. There are people I’d like to call my friend, but I’m not sure it is appropriate when we know so little of one another, and there’s little time and not enough beer for that to happen. It’s probablt too late for us. There are some whom I think I know and who know me well… but even then our communication goes silent for long drifts of time. Locally my friends feel more like ‘strong acquaintances’ to me. There’s a connection, but how strong is it? It seems to me that my family have become my friends, and sometimes to my chagrin.

But hey, that’s what makes a real friend a real friend. Someone you can count on (and vice-versa) to hear you out if/when the shit storm hits the fan. Remember, friendships are best served as a two-way dish and lukewarm to the touch.

To all my friends, wanna-bees, and wish-the-hell-they-never-met-mees, Cheers!

Share this:

Like this:

Daddy-hood sort of caught me by the nape of my neck. In the summer 2004 I was surprised to learn that… like it or not I was going to become a Father. Whoa!… after 50 years I had long decided against and avoided that (to me) unfortunate scenario. But, fate had chosen another route for […]

-Written for a Special friend and mother (Stefanie) of a beautiful two year old (Jayden) on Mothers Day 2008.

They had spent the last week or two living with us due to an ex-boyfriend gone mad, and the changing dynamics had left an indelible mark on all our psyches. Our parenting styles were vastly different and we were both frustrated and confused…not to mention how the arrangement affected our TWO beautiful reasons to live, OUR SONS Jayden and Dylan.

While they went to Cocoa to enjoy the beach, and Dylan (my son) went to his grandma’s house for Mother’s Day, i had a few moments, (finally) alone to relax, reflect and write this sing-songy poem…

You say i know nothing and nothing i might.

But to jump on conclusions would be a dark ride at night,

With scars healed by daylight and bones who’ve felt bite

I must take you and your screaming to the woodshed of light

There once lived a young maiden, in a land far away

Spent 20 years of bailing yet making no hay

Her mind was confused keeping demons at bay.

THOUGH she was sharp, strong and able, somehow that didn’t pay,

She was searching for answers, but figured “what will come and what may”

Meanwhile, back at the office of crisis and crowd

The vortex had summoned my life SO clear and SO loud.

I was forced to eat porrage of love and deceit,

Then i woke up in heaven, and whom did i greet?

A line of old men who all looked like my dad

Their clothes matched each other’s, not yellow or red,

They were the color of ‘old wisdom’, they were gray flannel dead.

I was happy to see them, i think they were me, (i thought they were me?)

But then i was certain when they all stood to pee

My limelight soon over, their focus turned off of me,

Just behind my left shoulder sat (my son) in our Tree.

The branches were spindly, they all shook when he smiled,

My love was enormous but our chances looked vile.

I figured… no need to worry, ”what will come and what may”

Then I watched you with (Jayden), at Cocoa Beach… yesterday?

I grabbed my son Dylan, ran and waved while I held back my tears

My dads all said goodbye, but that I might not see them see them for years

Between the dead and the living, it’s only us with the fears

But Ifelt this profound implication in loving our peers.

When I saw you again, I was no longer mad nor was I sad

I knew that our friendship was too important to let it go like some fad.

Your lovely smile lit my soul and I was thrilled you came my way

It was the day our lives intersected at the corner of ”what will come and what may”

Share this:

Like this:

Romantic love and real friendship are as vital to the human soul as basic nutrition is to our bodies.

We spend our lives affecting and becoming infected not just by the many interpersonal relationships we initiate, develop and sustain, but also those that for various reasons we let slide into the immensity of no return. though we might notice an occassional mistake in judgement and adjust, sometimes it’s too late. it pays us to take careful heed of the precarious nature of love and friendship as we move through our lives if happiness is our ultimate goal..

Our hearts can somehow sense what is intrinsically good or bad in relationships despite conflicting advice sometimes being shouted at our inner-self by our rational mind; then it attempts to sublimely guide our actions, while our rational mind factors in real issues and pressures that are exerted from the outside world. our inner-self does the math and our conscience agenda is set.

With love the truth always eventually rises to the surface.

Love chooses us, not the other way around. it is somewhat preordained as to whom we are attracted to and those we find unsuitable and reject. sometimes, to our brains our heart’s choice doesn’t make good sense. at this stage of my life (53), when it comes to love, my heart rules over my brain in a close one.

But it wasn’t always that way, and in fact not for most of my life. our lives are lived in segments, which stitch together as one in the end. our loves lives can seem incongrous to us because of the inner battle between heart and mind can sometimes become unbalanced.

Youth is impetuous and idealistic; the perfect stage for a heart in firm control over the brain. young people are notorious for their poor decisions when it comes to love.

as we enter our 20’s the balance changes and so too do our needs and wants in a mate. as life gets tougher and our responsibilities grow, we begin to be more practical. our expectations in love relationships become more grounded as we project how love will look in the future instead of seeing only the immediate benefits of a love interest we weigh and project a forecast for the future. does it show promise of providing us an easier life(style)? more loving and secure family? is it a friendly partnership? physical attraction is still important but becoming less weighted.

here is also where the brain can trick us into thinking that love can be bought and sold like any commodity. our heart takes a back seat while the rational mind does most of the driving during these formative years. after all the brain counts the money, not the heart.

later on goals adjust again and the heart begins to demand attention once again. we see that true happiness IS a matter of the heart, a concept our brain would just as soon we had forgotten. if we’re too impulsive, we may make life altering decisions that we will regret later, when the mind regains it’s footing and begins to assert it’s valuable wisdom. like every thing else in life, a good balance is what we’re after.

and then again, sometimes we’re just lucky and we meet a special person that satisfies our brain and our heart equally, and as much as we satisfy theirs. that’s true love and it usually lasts.

so when you meet someone and begin to form a relationship with them be careful not to make rash judgements that you may regret later. keep in mind (and heart) who your true friends are likely to be later on. in life. Love can become friendship and vice-versa. i know because both have happened to me.